


A Day In The Woods

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Aroused Victim, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Ball stretching/crushing, Biting, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Fucking, Cock Slapping, Explicit Sexual Content, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacles, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: Captured by some unknown creature and strung up with his sword and shield gone, it looks like Arrah's out to have a bad day - or at least it does at first.
Relationships: Tentacle Monster/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 156





	A Day In The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Set in some sort of vaguely fantasy world and the character's into everything that happens, whether he wants to be or not. The whipping/biting forms part of the CBT and nothing breaks the skin

Consciousness returns to Arrah slowly, his head lolling forwards, chin on his chest. Where is he? Trying to force his eyes open brings sunlight that hurts them at first, so he closes them tight shut again. What had happened?

His arms – His arms are caught back behind him, bound by something. Panic stirs in his belly and he struggles a bit, panting when something just holds onto them tighter. It’s not hands, he knows that much. Feels a bit more like ropes, but – Snakes, perhaps? There’s a supple, slightly scaled feeling. But snakes wouldn’t act like this.

Something loops around his waist and neck, further trapping him, not squeezing as yet, but there’s the promise of it.

“Let –” Arrah’s speaking before he knows it, even as the awareness catches up with him that this is no doubt a bad idea, “Let me go!”

Something slithers across his stomach, dipping under the one round his waist and just carrying right on down to his thighs – fuck, is he _naked_? Right as Arrah’s tensing, about to draw his legs together, it winds around his cock and _pulls_.

“Shit!” Arrah’s eyes fly open as his hips buck, the curse flying out of him as he chokes. A yell building up in his chest right after it as the thing pulls hard once again, not so much that it’s agonising, but it’s certainly unpleasant – or so he tells himself, “Stop it, stop it, stop it right now –”

It stops, much to his surprise.

“Ah – ah –” His vision clears enough to reveal that is indeed a sort of snake looking back at him, from its coil around his cock. No, actually – a kind of tentacle? Maybe? It has no eyes, but he’s definite it’s looking up at him, paused to see his reaction, more than due to his demand. Its scaled body rippling a little against his length in a way that really shouldn’t feel good, squeezing it over and over just a little too hard.

“Let – let me go,” Arrah tries again, struggling to free his hands from behind him only to freeze when two more tentacle tips appear, winding around his hips and thighs, only to stop at his cock. Looking up at him likewise.

“Shit, shit, shit,” They’re _waiting_ , Arrah knows. He can see now that he’s in some sort of leafy clearing, in a glade that would be really quite pretty if his sword and shield weren’t gone who knows where along with his armour and his clothes, and there wasn’t this nest of creatures – or one big creature with multiple limbs? – intent on – intent on –

Well, what _is_ its intent?

“I’d like you to let me go now please,” Arrah tries a different tactic, and the first tentacle-snake _grins_ at him, as at the end of the tapered tip – at the place where there definitely shouldn’t be any kind of face – it somehow opens up a _mouth_.

With teeth in.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Arrah’s squealing even before it gets his cock in that mouth, chomping onto the side of his soft shaft near the base and just – just fucking _gnawing_ , grinding away at his sensitive length while another – _fuck_ – another one of the tentacle-snake-things opens up a mouth of its own, and bites down on the other side, a little higher up.

He’s panicking so much he nearly blacks out. That loop around his neck arranging itself behind his head so he’s tipped forward at an angle that he can’t help but watch as a third tentacle-snake slithers over the two still gnawing his cock to rear up under the leaking head, and to lap at the slit with a red pointed tongue.

“Hah – hah –” And this is the realisation Arrah’s mind has been trying to have while his body fights with all its strength to pass out. This is what it takes him until now to realise – the mouths are chewing on him, teeth moving back and forth against the sides of his shaft, the tentacle-snake-things’ throat, or what passes for their throats, moving hungrily, but –

But they’re not breaking the skin; they’re not drawing blood. It hurts, sure, just like the one pulling at this cock hurt earlier, but it’s not a _bad_ hurt – in fact, it makes his blood pound and his skin break out in goosebumps and his toes curl.

Oh, and he’s leaking because he’s damned fucking _incredibly hard_.

“Oh stars – oh stars –” Arrah can’t say when _stop_ becomes _don’t stop,_ or rather becomes both at once, but that pointed tongue lapping over and over at his slit before running around the head of his cock to lick up the copious trickle of precome feels _really_ fucking good, pressing into one corner of his slit at an angle that makes him want to squirm away and pant like anything at once. Pressing into his slit like it wants to – like it wants to go _inside_ , and then it _is_ inside, and Arrah gets to watch that tongue press down into his urethra, gets to feel every millimetre of it too as his dick pulses around it, and the other two tentacle-snakes stop biting at his shaft.

He’s almost sorry for it, and then it even more sorry when one dives down to nudge under and then wind around his balls, drawing them down away from his body and tightening until he chokes and whines. The other snake-tentacle slips over his hip, heading back around the top of his thigh – he _knows_ where it’s going, or he sure suspects he does, but it’s still a shock to feel the blunt head of it burrow between his cheeks in search of his hole.

“Oh – oh –” That tongue inside his cock _moves_ , sliding down even further until he tenses, before wriggling a little bit, as if testing what space it has, before drawing slowly back up and out.

No, not out. It pushes back down inside his dick again, feeling larger somehow, wider, and he bucks his hips at the feel of it as best he can, his cock jerking hard.

Shit, he can – he can see the movement of it inside him, can see the slight ripple passing down the skin of his shaft to mark its progress as it swells yet wider again, and the other tentacle-snake around his balls tightens around them much like a hand.

Arrah’s always liked having his balls played with, always liked fingers around them, closing just a little bit too hard. Stopping right before he starts feeling like he needs to squirm away. But this isn’t like that.

The tongue stuffed inside his cock starts up a rhythm, starts fucking it, as the one around his balls squeezes and releases, squeezes and releases in time, hard enough it makes tears prickle his eyes, even as he whines and whimpers, prevented from tossing his head by the loop around his neck.

They get him near pleading to have the third one, the one just circling and kneading and rubbing up against his hole inside him after not too long – he _needs_ it, needs to feel the pressure it could so easily provide up against his prostate – and he almost sobs when it takes pity and obliges him, pushing in slowly so that he feels every second of it.

“Ah!” There’s a sudden squirt of cold down there, like it – like it spat something inside him maybe, spat or secreted, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like saliva but much more like lube. Arrah almost laughs a little wildly, spreading his legs as much as he can and shouting at the first wet thrust of the thing as it works its way deeper into his ass, and then it’s there, rubbing up against his prostate, and he almost comes.

The tentacle-snake in front of him snaps its tongue so fast out of his urethra that he almost wails, and then it _whips_ his cock, a crack of pain so quick he almost can’t process it, so good he very nearly comes then and there as well.

It’s just that bit too painful though for that, although the one now enthusiastically fucking his ass makes no concession for it. Arrah’s left spasming and squirming between the two sensations, the fucking and the whipping as the one in front of him lashes his reddened, desperate cock again and again, ever unpredictably, the thin length of it getting him right on his slightly puffy, gaping slit; the curve of the glans that bit further down; the base where it joins with his bound balls.

“Oh stars, oh fuck, oh _fuck_!” Those balls are yanked at, making him screech, and he screeches all over again when the first tentacle-snake stops whipping his cock only to ripple, those tiny scales shimmering as it flattens and broadens out.

Then it slaps his cock, bats it over to one side, and then backhands it, and Arrah starts fighting properly – whether to get more of it or away from it, he can’t tell. His cock’s still hard though, even as his mind is convinced that it shouldn’t be. The slapping has his cock bouncing off his belly, drops of precome scattering onto the woodland floor, and he’s yelling all over again, huffing and gasping for breath that’s only made more difficult when the loop around his neck tightens.

“No, no, no, no –” It doesn’t strangle him; just squeezes until he near blacks out, and then loosens back up. The air he wrenches in then is _wonderful_ , as is the feeling of the one fucking his ass expanding, growing inside him even as new tentacles wrap around his thighs, lifting them into the air, holding them up and apart. More of them joining the one around his waist, angling him until the pounding into his prostate is even more intense, and the tentacle-snake slapping his cock really gets it hard, while the one around his balls yanks hard enough that he screams –

And comes, and comes, and keeps on coming, and it takes him a while to realise that that tongue has buried itself inside his dick again, that the creature is sucking the spunk up greedily, not a single bit making it out.

His shaft is softening around it, giving him a good view of what the head of the tentacle-snake-thing looks like when it’s inside his cock as it wriggles its way right on in there after its tongue, as if in search of more spunk.

“It’s too big – _it’s too big_ –” His dick can’t take it, _Arrah_ can’t take it, he can’t, he _can’t_ –

But the tentacle thing keeps on going anyway, until he can see the bulge of that head right in the base of his shaft.

Fuck, his cock is trying to get hard again. He’s come already, he’s come harder than he maybe ever has in his life, but these creatures don’t care. Fresh tentacle-snakes appear purely for the purpose of nibbling at his cock, sucking it this time in between little bites, slurping and licking and chewing it with relentless little mouths as the head stuffed inside his urethra oh so slowly slithers back out, Arrah so oversensitive he can only twitch and plead.

The one buried in his ass feels _enormous_ , constant pressure against his prostate so good it’s near torturous as the thing stirs, rubbing and massaging him there, and his balls are hot and throbbing within their confines. There’s a mouth opening up there too, Arrah’s pretty sure, within the loops that had yanked at him so – a mouth opening up to close over his gloriously abused balls and suck at them as well.

“Oh, oh – _yes_ –” Shutting his eyes, he keens wholeheartedly as the small ones sucking his cock draw back only for a _much_ larger mouth to close over it, pointed tongue dragging up and down the underside of his shaft before shifting to the side, and teeth – big, beautiful teeth – press slowly but inexorably down.

The pressure on his cock and the fear that overtakes him are both _delightful_. Because this great tentacle-snake head could bite his dick right off, just like that. But it doesn’t. Instead it chews at his dick, bites it just until he’s trembling like anything and pleading for mercy, right on the very edge of thinking it’s going to do it, it’s actually going to really do damage, only for that big tongue to lick and soothe the tooth marks, slipping over the head, circling his slit like it wants to works its way in there impossibly as well.

And if it can, somehow, do that?

Even as he spills over, shuddering all over in his second orgasm out of what will be many more, Arrah already knows –

He hopes it will.


End file.
